


shining star

by freedomatsea



Series: Hell's Kitchen Universe Pieces [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: AU, Bathroom Sex, Cunnilingus, F/M, Table Sex, Vaginal Fingering, actually not just smut but lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 17:35:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10667511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freedomatsea/pseuds/freedomatsea
Summary: A Kastle canon divergence with a reworking of their first encounter, spanning to spoiler pics from Punisher.





	shining star

**Author's Note:**

  * For [only_halfway_there](https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_halfway_there/gifts).



> Judge me not for my complete fail at writing a summary.

* * *

  _-_ **i** -  
_found i had to stand alone_

* * *

 

Karen held her breath, which was quite the feat due to the adrenaline pumping through her veins, making her lungs scream for desperate gasps of oxygen. She hadn’t been able to make it through stairwell door with Grotto - but at least he was safe. Every heavy fall of the man’s boots as he came down the stairs above her seemed to rattle her bones.

Was this how she was going to die? Gunned down in a stairwell by a madman. There was _no_ way she could take him on. It was sheer luck as it was that she hadn’t been struck by one of the bullets he’d intended for Grotto. He was either a terrible shot or an excellent one.

The footsteps ceased.

She covered her mouth, eyes wide with fear as she waited with baited breath for him to turn that slight corner. He would see her. There was no way he wouldn’t see her in that dimly little corner.

“ _Shh. Shh._ ”

Karen’s brows knit together at that. Was he… _hushing_ her? It was far from a caring sound, somewhere in between annoyed and … maybe it did have hints of care to it.

“I’m not gonna hurt _you._ ”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Karen retorted, trying to sound sure of herself, but she was trembling and her words were too. She stepped out of the darkness, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Something shifted in that moment. Like all the air had been sucked out of the dingy, yellow-lit, stairwell and then it all rushed back in.

“You’re safer right now than you were with him. He’s a piece of shit.” He looked towards doorway that Grotto had escaped through, before focusing on her once more.

Karen stiffened under his gaze, her own eyes falling on the shotgun in his grasps. “I don’t particularly feel _safe_ right now.” She bit out.

“That man murdered innocent people.”

“And you didn’t?” Karen countered, her brows knitting together as she studied him. Something about her words made him flinch, a sort of haunted look in his eyes that was gone in a flash.

“Not a single one of those bastards were _innocent_.” 

Karen shook her head, standing a little taller - which was probably a foolhardy thing to do. He had a gun and she had two fists and a hell of a lot of gumption. “You could’ve shot me.”

“You were _safe_.” He pressed and there was something about the way he said it, the way he _looked_ , that she actually believed him. He wasn’t lying to her. She was never his target.

She crossed her arms across her chest self consciously, blinking as she looked away from him. Karen opened her mouth to say something, but shouting from the floor above them silenced anything she had to say. “You should go.” She said scarcely more than a whisper.

“Yeah?” He cocked his head to the side, a slight smirk curling at the corner of his lips. “You good at distraction?”

Karen matched his look with a slight nod of her head. “ _Go_.” She looked up at the sound of more shouting and by the time she lowered her gaze he was already out the door. She screamed - alerting all the cops to her location in an attempt to give him time to escape. Clearly she’d lost her mind. Why was she helping _him_? But there was something in his eyes, something etched into _him_ that told her she had to believe him. Trust him. Wasn’t that what Matt and Foggy did? They saw the good in people no one else believed in?  

* * *

 - **ii** -  
_bless it now i’ve got my own_

* * *

 They’re not supposed to cross the red tape box on the hospital floor. It seems somehow ironic that this is where they meet again. His face his bloodied and bruised and his hands are cuffed to the bed. Matt has no idea that the two of them had had _words_ the last time they crossed paths. To the world and the two men beside her - this is the first time she’s come face-to-face with the man that shot at her and Grotto.

“Oh my God.” She breaths out, releasing Matt’s hand as she takes in the sight of _Frank Castle_. That’s his name. She’s researched him. A lot. She’s been in his house. She’s seen the man he was before… whatever happened to him.

Karen doesn’t even hear what Matt’s saying, something about who they are. It all sounds like white noise. Her heart skips a beat when he stirs in the bed, his eyes finding hers for just a second before he’s glaring daggers at Matt and then closing his eyes.

He’s got to be in a lot of pain and not just because of the physical injuries, there’s emotional ones that Karen’s all too familiar with. Those aren’t as easily numbed with whatever’s in his IV drip. It’s clear that he doesn’t want their help and that’s probably because of those unseen bruises and the bullet wounds to his psyche.

It’s stupid. It’s brash. She shouldn’t have brought the picture with her. She shouldn’t even be crossing that red tape. But she is and it’s all because of whatever it is about him that makes her feel like she’s on fire.

“You want answers. So do we. But none of us are going to get them if you’re dead.” Karen’s voice was strained as she twisted out of Matt’s attempts to pull her away, keeping the picture held up in front of Frank’s face. It’s him. His kids. On what looked like one of the last happy days he ever had.

“Where did you get _that_?” Frank whispered, his eyes were a mix of anger and awe and unfathomable pain.

“Your home.”

“You were in my home?” It’s said almost so quietly she can’t hear him. “What were you doing in my house?” He questioned as Matt pulled her back over the red tape. “You go in my house?” Karen knows their time is short. The District Attorney is outside his room, yelling at the guard for letting them in.

“She is lying about what happened to your family Mr. Castle.” Karen insisted, her eyes never leaving his face. He can’t just give up. Not when there’s more to uncover. She barely knows him, but she’s been in his house, she’s seen who he was before. He wouldn’t just give up.

Reyes barged in, a flurry of annoyance that tells Karen that there’s something here she doesn’t want them finding out. “You three. Out. _Now_.”

Matt has his fingers curled around her arm as he tries to get her to retreat further from the line, but Karen’s determined to hold Frank’s gaze, to implore him without words to let them in. She _can’t_ let him down.

* * *

\- **iii** -  
_so, if you find yourself in need_

* * *

 

“I’ve reviewed the charges you’re facing.” Foggy said hesitantly as Karen settled into her seat a few feet away from that glaring red line. It seems like a metaphor. Once she crosses that line she’ll have to admit to herself that - _no_. She’s not… She _is_. She sees herself in his eyes.

“It’s my understanding that you wish to plead guilty to all of them.” There’s a long moment of silence before Foggy continued, “I’m gonna need a verbal confirmation if we’re going to continue.”

Karen shifted in her seat, feeling Frank’s eyes on her. He hasn’t taken them off of her since she entered the room.

“Look you asked us to represent you. In order to do my job-”

“I’m guilty.” Frank rasped out, his eyes still boring into hers. She couldn’t look away from him.

“Great, uh…” Foggy stammered.

“I’m not talking to you.”

“What?”

“ _Her_.” A chill ran down Karen’s spine. “I need to talk to her alone.” 

“Absolutely not. My colleague is-”

“I’ll do it.” Karen said without wavering. She waited until Foggy left the room, the door closing and locking behind him, before she stood up. “I’m surprised he didn’t fight me on that.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Karen smiled a little, clutching her stack of files to her chest, as though they would guard her. “He, um… They both think that… well, they don’t know that I met you before. They just think that you shot at me.”

“You bought me a little time that night.” He gave a strained laugh, sitting up as much as he could with his hands cuffed to the rails of the bed. “Looks like you’re buying me a little time again.” He looked away, his brows knitting together.

“It felt _right_.” Karen admitted with a nervous laugh, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She met his eyes again, noting the way his expression had hardened again.

“My family. What do you know?”

Karen frowned. “Uh. We can get to that.”

“What do you know… about my family?” He insisted, his jaw setting hard. She caught the way his fingers tapped the rail, like he was getting ready to fire a gun. Trigger finger.

She moved towards her stack of files, shuffling through them. Karen extracted the manila folder with the information she’d collected. “Have you ever seen this? A police report, complaint number 211974.” She kept her eyes on the paper as she teetered at the red line. “Victims were stopped at a traffic light northbound on Buellton Ave, when an unidentified male suspect began firing a 9mm handgun at their vehicle.” She glanced up at him for a brief look before continuing, “Juvenile male, juvenile female, and adult woman were found dead at the scene. Adult male driver was critically wounded and taken to Metro-General.”

 “That’s horsehit.” Frank rasped out.

 “That’s the story Reyes is running with. But you and I know you and your family, you… you were at the carousel that day. From what I can piece together, it seems like you were caught in some kind of firefight.”

He remained silent. Staring at her. She can’t help but wonder if the pain of that day is coming back to him or if it’s something else that’s keeping him silent. His face is impossible to read.

“How much can you remember?”

“This ain’t about what I remember.”

"Yes. _Yes_. It is.” Karen moved forward then, carelessly stepping over the red tape and coming up along the side of his bed. “Mr. Castle, I’ve got a lot of puzzle pieces, but… trust me, this moves a lot smoother if you can tell me _anything_.”

Frank mumbled something completely unintelligible. His gaze is fixed on a point somewhere past her. He swallowed thickly, his eyes darting back and forth for a second - like he was reliving that moment all over again. “It goes in and out. Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“The fact that it fades… We took our blanket down to our spot. She was by the carousel on the lawn… Then I heard her shout. Scream. It was a grown man.”

“Who did you see?”

“Didn’t. But I found out later. The Cartel. Irish. Bikers.”

“Anyone else?”

“I should’ve seen it coming.”

“How could you know?”

“What did I just say to you? I heard it coming. I heard it… and I didn’t do anything. My job was to keep them safe. I didn’t. I didn’t do it.”

Karen tucked her bottom lip into her mouth, biting down in an attempt to focus on that pain instead of the ache in her chest. She understood that feeling far too well. The guilt. There was no one else in the world that she’d felt whatever this was and it was… too much.

“I think…” She covered her mouth, unable to meet his eyes again. The intensity burning in them. The pain. “The questions can wait a minute, I’ll just…” Karen turned away, returning to her chair and her papers. “Why don’t I, uh…” She had to fill the silence that was starting to eat away at something within her.  “Why don’t I just come back when you’re…”

“You stay.”  Karen froze. “ _Please_.”  Only then did she look back at him, her heart hammering away in her chest.

Her expression softened as she met the suffering in his eyes. “Okay.” She nodded her head slowly, shifting her weight from foot-to-foot, before moving back towards his bed. “I’m going to figure out what happened _Frank_.” Truthfully, Karen didn’t feel like she had a choice - the moment she met him in that stairwell she knew that there was no going back. Like two magnets being pulled towards each other.

God, how stupid did she sound? Was she really making hyperbolic statements like that about a _murderer_? And some small part of her kept pushing the point that somehow - _this_ , whatever this even was, wasn’t fair to Matt. That alone told her that she’d crossed another type of red tape.

Maybe she just needed sleep. She hadn’t gotten much since that evening in the stairwell.

“You were never in any danger.” Frank said, filling the silence as Karen sipped at her coffee that had long since gone cold.

“I know.” Karen said quietly, her brows knitting together. “I don’t know why…”

“Just because you were babysitting that shit brick, running around with that Grotto…” Frank stared at her again. “I only hurt people who deserve it. I just wanted to make sure you know that.” 

“What did Grotto do?” Karen questioned, running her thumb along the curve of her coffee cup. 

“Hits for the Irish. You know, one time he shot an old lady ‘cause she saw his face.”

Karen grimaced. “Guess you were right. I’m safer here with you than with him.” 

“You have any idea what a scout sniper is?”

“No.” She turned away, sitting her coffee cup down, needing a moment to look away from him.

“Okay, well you’re look at one. My class in Quantico was class 307. We had a… a motto. It was a saying, yeah? It was, “One shot, one kill.” The point is, if I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

“Why… why am I here?” Karen questioned, gesturing to the room around them. “Why did you ask me to stay?”

“I don’t…” Frank smiled a little, shaking his head. “I guess I worry that… the memories are just gonna go away.”

“Mr. Castle…” She was trying to keep it professional. To use that instead of Frank. But Frank just slid off her tongue so naturally.

“Look you. You went to… You were in my house.”

“You… You never went back? After your family-”

“No.” Frank, seemed almost afraid to ask her.  “Can I just ask you, did you… Were you in the kitchen?”

“Yes.”

“The plates, were they… Were they on the table, or did they get into the sink?”

“Um… I think, washed. In the rack.”

“How about in the next room, did you… Did you see the piano that was there?”

Karen moved towards him again. That pull that she almost couldn’t fight. “Yeah. Yeah.”

“Yeah? My son, Frank Junior, he… He used to grab a handful of cookies and take ‘em and hide ‘em in that bench. You know, he’d play soldier. Guard it, protect it.”

“Oh yeah?” Karen grinned at him, matching the way he was starting to smile at the memory. There was something about his smile that made her heart flutter. It was a new feeling, not at all like the one she felt around Matt. But she pushed that thought down. Those thoughts had no place here. Not when they were talking about his _family_.

 “He’d fall asleep down there. We’d find him.” He actually _chuckled_. She didn’t know he even had it in him still. “He’d be sleeping on a pile of… pile of cookie crumbs.”

 “Yeah, I um… When I was a little girl, I did the same thing.” Karen felt her cheeks warm at her own shared memory, “Except, ginger snaps and broom closet.” She shook her head, “I’d pretend it was a spaceship. Take me far away.”

“I guess we need that, right?” Frank tilted his head, he narrowed his eyes for just a second, trying to read that comment of hers she guessed. “To get away sometimes.”

She quickly turned the subject back to his kids, “I went up into the kid’s bedrooms.” Karen said, trying to feed him those memories he seemed starved for and keep away from her own past. “There were drawings on the walls and, uh, sports trophies on the dressers.”

“Yeah, I was a gone a lot. So I uh.. Didn’t. I missed a lot of that.” Frank said, his voice dropping a little lower. _Regret_.

“There were toys scattered on the ground. A lot of plastic dinosaurs.” Karen smiled, trying to bring back that smile on his lips. She wanted him to _smile_. To remember the good things, not just the bad.

“That was my little girl. Lisa. When she was little she used to make these little noises when she played with them.”

“What about the little.. “ She swallowed back a lump of emotion, “The little car? Like a remote control jeep.” She was trying to recall everything she saw in the house, everything that could paint a picture for him. She knew what it was like to forget. The best memories faded and the worst ones stuck with you.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. That was Frank Juniors. I got it for him for his seventh birthday.  Yeah, he drove me crazy with that thing.”

“Look, Frank, it’s really not for me to say…” Her voice broke. “But they clearly loved you. Very much.” Her heart ached for him. His was a story that truly shattered her. He wasn’t just some crazed murderer, he was who he was because a murderer took everything away from him. He murdered because he _had_ to.

“ _Yeah_.” He drew in a series of ragged breaths at that, his chest rising and falling harshly, his eyes doing that thing where they darted back and forth. He looked like a caged animal and his cage was the memories never made.

Karen turned back to her stack of files, grabbing the photo of him and his children at the carousel, leaving it on the bed with him, before she retreated back across the red line.

“Thank you ma’am.”

“For what?” Karen looked over her shoulder at him.

“You helped… You helped me remember.” He blinked as he met her gaze.

“You’re welcome.” Karen smiled faintly.

“You can… you can ask your questions now.” He muttered, closing his eyes for a long moment as he settled back against his pillow.

“Right.” Karen nodded, grabbing her file off the counter and moving to sit in her chair just over the red tape. 

* * *

 - **iv** -  
_why don’t you listen to these to these words of heed_

* * *

 

Karen couldn't find the words to convince Matt and Foggy that whoever gunned down Reyes wasn't Frank. She knows they both think she's lost it and Matt definitely isn't treating her quite the same since she rallied in Frank’s defense for _everything_. And she's not sorry. If she was, she wouldn't be opening her apartment to him.

“They think it's you.” Karen chewed on her bottom lip as she stared at her handgun laying on the table.

“You know how to use it? One shot, one kill?” Frank questioned, tapping his finger against the ceramic coffee cup in his grip.

Karen nodded. “I've had pretty good luck with one shot, one kill.” She whispered, chancing a look at him before looking away.

Even though she isn't looking at him, she caught the way he cocked his head curiously out of her peripheral. “Don't ask.”

“Wasn't.” Frank sighed, sinking back in his chair. “Not surprised.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“It changes you, Karen.” He offered gently. “I know. I know.”

She laughed at that, shaking her head. “I had to. You know they say… but I didn't...I had no choice.”

“It's bullshit when they say you do.” Frank said gruffly, picking his cup up to have a sip of his coffee. “You don't gotta tell me anymore. Some memories don't need rehashing.”

Karen smiled thankfully, her lashes fluttering. “No one knows.”

“Yeah? You keep a lot from your buddies.”

“One of them happens to be my…” Karen trailed off. “I don't know what he is anymore. It's complicated.”

“He love you?”

“I don't know”.

“You love him.”

Karen stared at him. She didn't nod. She didn't shake her head. She didn't look away.

“ _Karen_.” He breathed out.

“I don't… I don't want to hear it.” Karen scooted her chair back and got up. “I know it's stupid. It's so stupid. I've got the great guy and he treats me better than anyone before.”

“But do you love him?”

Karen turned around to face Frank. He was standing now. Close to her. “I thought I could.” She offered, “But then everything I wanted to feel with him, I felt… I felt it. But it wasn't him.”

There was that feeling again. Like all the air had been sucked out of the room and then it was all came rushing back at her again.

“I ain't right.” Frank said, blinking at her. “This head of mine got all jumbled up.”

“That doesn't matter.” Karen sighed, giving in. “You don't think I don't feel like I'm not right? Look at me. Just look at me. Holed up with a murderer and a handgun, spilling her guts. And for what? A little peace of mind I guess.” She looked away, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

“Sometimes you need to let it out,” Frank offered, reaching out gingerly to touch her cheek.

Karen leaned into his touch, her eyes meeting his again. “Yeah?” She bit down on her bottom lip, trying to decide just how rash she wanted to be. Because that feeling in the pit of her stomach only seemed to be growing. Two magnets pulling together.

She smiled at him, her heart soared when he matched it with a smile of his own. That was all it took. Karen shuffled a little closer, her own hand cupping his stubbly cheek as she leaned in to kiss him.

He didn't react at first and she felt dread replace the desire in her stomach almost immediately. She started to pull back, ready with a slur of apologies and excuses for why she had done it, but his fingers curled around her hip and pulled her closer, his mouth slowly slanting over hers.

Her arms slid over his shoulder, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head as she sank into the kiss. His tongue was probing at her lips, seeking entrance and she gladly parted her lips, letting their tongue slide together.

It was so different from kissing Matt. He was sweet and the kisses were always sweet, kind - but this was something else. This was fire and desire. Unbridled.

Karen ran her hands over his broad chest, one hand skimming lower over his stomach, ghosting over the bulge in his pants. He groaned in response, the sound reverberating straight through her.

His hand ran down her back, settling at the small of her back as he crushed her to his chest, his mouth breaking away from hers as he ran his lips over her jawline.

Karen let out a small gasp when he urged her to turn around, her back pressed against his chest and her ass nestled against his cock. “ _Frank_.” She breathed out and he hushed her gently.

She had known that day in the stairwell. The last time he _shhed_ her like that. This was going to happen. She'd just known.

Frank’s fingers made light work of the buttons of his blouse, surprisingly dexterous. Karen was lost in the anticipation, heat burning between her thighs, wanting to be sated.

She leaned away from his chest to let her blouse fall to their feet, her ass grinding back against him, loving the way it made his breath hitch and him grunt little _fucks_.

His fingers skinned over her lower belly, where the waistband of her skirt sat. Her muscles trembled beneath his touch and she gasped out his name when he deftly slipped his hand beneath the waistband of her skirt and her underwear in one swift move.

Her fingers curled around his wrist, her mouth parted with a soundless cry as his fingers slowly explored her. There was something strangely erotic about the roughness of his fingers as they stroked her most sensitive flesh. It added to everything.

“So wet,” Frank hissed close to her ear, his breath dancing over her as he circled her clit.

Karen cried out as he dipped a single digit into her, grinding her ass back against him more earnestly in response to the mounting pleasure.

“Fra-” She panted, letting her head fall back against his shoulder. “Please. _Please._ ” She was close. Her inner walls were already fluttering around his finger. “Oh God.” Karen bit down on her lip, her eyes clenched closed as he thumbed at her clit just right and that was all it took.

Karen cried out and Frank clamped his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. She turned around to face him slowly, her hands moving to make quick work of his belt and zipper, but he caught her wrists.

“What?” Karen blinked, still reeling from her release.

Frank shook his head. “I.. I shouldn't. _We_ -”

Karen silenced him with a kiss, her fingers trailing over his scruffy cheeks, threading through his short hair. “You deserve it too.”

“I don't deserve jackshit, Karen.” Frank mumbled against her lips, before he pulled away. “Besides, I ain't got protection.”

“I do.” Karen assured him, “Doubly. I even keep a couple in my bedside table.” She brushed her thumb over his bottom lip. “You're allowed to feel good too, you know.”

Karen reached out with her other hand to trail her fingers over him through his pants, studying his reaction. His jaw was clenched tightly, but his lashes fluttered in response to her fingers playing over him. She traced the outline of his cock, before attempting to pull his zipper down again.

Frank caught her wrist again, only this time there was something far more serious about the look on his face. He heard something.

“Get down.” He gritted out, throwing his body weight at her as they both fell to the ground, barely missing a firestorm of bullets. Karen covered her head, her eyes clenched closed as glass shattered around her apartment, the bullets piercing the walls, sending debris flying.

Frank kept himself over her, his hands covering her head protectively until there was a pause in the gunfire. He helped her up, grabbing her shirt and shoving it at her as they moved out into the hallway. “Keep low.”

“Are _you_ coming?” Karen questioned, her heart lodged somewhere in her throat. She didn’t want to leave without him. Her head was reeling. All thoughts of desire and want had been replaced with fear. 

* * *

 - **v** -  
_be a giant grain of sand_

* * *

Karen chewed on her bottom lip, raking her fingers through her hair as she stared out the the window. They hadn’t spoken since they’d made it out of her apartment and into her car. She’d taken the passenger seat because her hands were shaking too much to drive and Frank was completely calm. Which was alarming and comforting all the same.

“You, uh…” Karen started, her voice quiet as she chanced a look at him. “You think we’re always gonna get shot at when we…?” She laughed a little, shaking her head.

“Yeah.” He sighed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “If you stick around me. Yeah.”

“Might be the other way around.” Karen said lightly, trying to break the awkward air that seemed to be swirling around them. “I keep getting shot at, you know.” She ran her hand over her forehead, sinking into the seat with a sigh.

“I heard it this time.” Frank said after a long period of silence. “Didn't just.. I didn't. Didn't just sit there and let it happen.”

Karen frowned. She knew exactly what he was alluding to, but she didn't want to touch it - that was a loaded statement.

“It's a shame we got interrupted,” Karen kind of blurted out, her cheeks going red and she mumbled something under breath about being stupid.

“Yeah?” Frank questioned, his lips curving upwards a little. “You think it was… a shame?”

Karen bit down on her bottom lip and nodded. “Yeah. I was kinda looking forward to…” She waved her hand, in lieu of finishing that sentence.

“It's probably for the best.” Frank said with a heavy sigh, shifting in his seat, looking out the window. “Y’know. That it didn't.”

“How long-” Karen stopped herself, running her fingers over her lips as she focused on her window then. “Nevermind…”

“Night before.” Frank blew out a breath, taking his hand over his face. “Felt like I was betraying her memory.”

Karen clasped her hands together, staring at them in her lap. “Oh. Right. I mean, I get that. I mean…” She sighed. “We don't have to… _ever_.”

“Okay.” Frank gave her a sideways look. “Ever?”

“I mean… it could be good to blow off a little steam. But if it feels like..” She frowned. “I know how important memories are for you. I don't want to be the one that fucks that up, Frank.”

Frank reached out and took her hand in his. “Yeah. Doesn't mean it won't happen. Sometime. When we ain't getting shot at.”

Karen squeezed his hand and nodded her head. “Right. _Right_.” She swallowed thickly. “You know, I could really use some coffee.”

“Coffee. Got it.” Frank nodded, moving to start her car up, releasing her hand. “I could use some too.” 

* * *

 - **vi** -  
_words of wisdom, yes I can_

* * *

 

Karen sat across from Frank, smiling at the way he pulled his cap down further when the waitress came by to fill up their coffee mugs. His face was still bruised and people knew more or less what he looked like. But the brim cast shadows that obscured his identity. Not that anyone would care in a place like this.

“You know what I, um, like about you?”

“What?” He questioned, amusement flickering over his face as he took a sip of his coffee.

“You've never lied to me. You're honest with me. And you don't judge me.” She looked out the window and sighed. “Pretty sure everyone thinks I've lost it. Especially Matt. And you know what? He's been acting so weird lately, like he's a different person.” She ran her finger around the rim of her cup. “And I've been patient.”

“Yeah?” He smirked. “He sure ain't being honest with you.”

“What do you mean?”

He cleared his throat. “Dunno. Seems like a weasel to me. He's got someone like you and he ain't holding onto you for all he's worth. He ought to.”

Karen fell quiet, staring at him. “Is that what you would do?”

“If I had you? Fuck yeah. I wouldn't let go.” He shook his head. “But I don't think I'm capable of that shit anymore, Karen.”

Karen scooted out of her booth, moving around the table to sit far too close to her. “I think you are capable of it. You just need to… I don't know. Lighten up. Which seems shitty to say, considering…”

“Blow off steam?”

“Yeah.” She blushed and laughed. “Blow off steam.” Karen rubbed her lips together, meeting his eyes, before she stared down at her coffee. “I definitely felt better, until the bullets started.”

Frank squeezed her thigh under the table, “Yeah?” He smirked a little. “I liked making you feel good. It was pretty hot.”

Karen swallowed thickly, biting down on her bottom lip. “You thinking about blowing off steam right now?”

His fingers tapped against her leg, “Maybe.”

“Come on.” Karen said, grabbing his hand as she slid out of the booth. She felt a little crazy, guiding them back towards the bathroom. Somehow, this seemed like the right place to do this.

In the bathroom of a 24 hour diner. With a flickering sink light and a shoddy lock.

Frank had her pressed up against the door and his mouth was all over her. She moaned against his lips, her hands sliding over his arms and down his chest. He was batting her hand away this time. She fumbled with his belt, wrenching it open, and sliding his zipper down.

His lips were on her throat, sucking at her pulse point. His hands were sliding under her skirt, making the fabric bunch around her waist.

“Fuck.”

Karen worked her hand into his pants, her fingers curling around his length, marveling in the way he reacted to her touch.

 “ _Karen_.” He breathed out, like a prayer. His lips found hers again, desperate and needy. “Stop. Stop.” Frank panted out, catching her hand and pulling it away. “Too soon.” He mumbled.

She leaned in and kissed him, laughing softly against his mouth. “We don't want to spoil our fun, huh?”

Frank grunted, nipping at her bottom lip. He hooked his fingers in her underwear, tugging them down her hips. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Very sure.” Karen assured him, tugging at his shirt to get it off. “It's fine. I'm on the pill. It's okay. Are you okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” He kissed her again as his hands curled around her hips to lift her up enough for her to hook her legs around his waist. “ _Fuck_.”

The need she felt for him wasn't something she had ever felt before. It was as though only he could fill those hollow places within her. And not just physically, but something deeper than that.

Karen kissed him, desperate. He released his grip on one of her hips, reaching between them to guide his cock to her aching center. She gasped against his lips, giving him the ample opening to thrust his tongue into her mouth, tangling with hers. He pressed into her slowly, like was savoring it all.

He broke away from her lips, pressing his forehead to hers, his eyes boring into her as he rolled his hips, drawing in and out.

“More.” She breathed out, running her fingers through his short hair as she rocked into his movements, her shoulders digging back against the door, using it to leverage her movements.

Frank picked up the pace of his thrust, drawing back and slamming into her again. “So. _So_. Fucking good.” He gritted out, dragging his lips along her collarbone.

Karen’s hands smoothed over his chest, curling around the back of his neck to hold him close. “ _Frank_.” She moaned, her head falling back. “Yes. Yes.” She was close, teetering on the edge. Her nails bit into his shoulders as she held onto him, biting down on her bottom lip to keep quiet as her release hit.

His breathing was labored as he thrust into her faster, seeking his own end. “Up.” He rasped out, urging her to lift up so he could slip from her. Karen was still reeling from her own release, but she reached between them, her fingers curling around his cock, pumping her fist along his length as she brought him over the edge.

The look on his face in that moment was enough to make her tremble. He looked relaxed for the first time since she met him. Not even drugs at the hospital had made his jaw go slack like that.

“Here.” He muttered, straining to reach for a paper towel, passing it to her to clean her hand off.

“Thanks.” Karen smiled, letting her legs drop from around his waist as she wiped her fingers off, tossing the paper towel on the trash as she straightened her skirt. “Better?”

“Mhm.” Frank hummed, giving her a pleased look. “Better.” His lips seemed stuck in an upwards turn.

“Good.” Karen smiled, tucking her hair behind her ears as she checked her appearance in the mirror. “I'll go out first.” She offered, shifting anxiously on her feet. “Okay?”

“ _Okay_.” He nodded, pulling his shirt back on before he grabbed his cap up off the floor, putting it back on.

* * *

\- **vii** -  
_you're a shining star_

* * *

There was no way he survived. The ship had _exploded_. He wasn’t some super human. He had survived a bullet to the head, but _this…_ there was no way he was alive. Her heart was hammering away in her chest, her pulse pounding in her ears. She couldn’t breathe.

“ _Frank_ … Why?” She whispered, staring at the ship as it burst into flames, taking a step back, looking away as the flames shot upwards. There was no way he… No way he was a live.

She stayed. The entire night. Watching as the police pulled bodies from the smoldering ship. Waiting with baited breath for one of them to be Frank.

They offered her a blanket to wrap up in as the chilly night air settled in, but no blanket was going to warn her up., not while dread had her in its icy clutch.

Morning came and still they hadn’t pulled Frank from the wreckage. She didn’t want to believe that he was dead, but she kept catching the whispered rumors that they’d eventually find him. They all believed he was dead.

“You know you can go home, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Karen muttered, turning around to face Brett. “You don’t need anything else?”

“I have your statement. If you have any more questions, I can track you down. And don’t worry, that so-called “police protection” I gave you? They’re crossing guards in Yonkers now.”

Karen’s brows furrowed together, tearing her eyes away from another cadaver they’d pulled out. Still no Frank. “What? No… No, Brett, really, there’s… There’s nothing they could do. It wasn’t their fault.” She didn’t want anyone getting in trouble because of her. She was the reason Frank had gotten in. “Frank… followed me… He kidnapped me.” She was trying to convince herself, as well as Brett.

“Well, thank Christ you managed to get away. Not many people can say that about the Punisher.”

Karen just stared at him. And not many people could say they’d fucked the Punisher either, but she was full of those exceptions.

“Seriously. Go home.” Karen sighed, nodding her head a little, hugging her blanket tighter around her. “Get some sleep. Ambien’s the real deal. Look… I know what you’re thinking.”

Karen knew she had to look like shit. She felt it all the way to her bones. She was exhausted and upset and she had to conceal it all. Why would _she_ mourn the death of the Punisher?

“Maybe Castle survived. Maybe he’s still out there. He ain’t.”

Her heart clenched at that. “How can you be sure? You ID him yet?” Karen questioned, trying not to be _too_ interested.

“There’s twenty burned bodies. It takes time.”

“So… there’s a _chance_.”

“You saw the same explosion I did. You’re safe Karen.”

No, she wasn’t. She wasn’t safe anymore. She was safe when she was with _Frank_. Now she felt exposed and in danger.

“The nightmare you’ve been living, it’s over. Frank Castle’s a dead man.”

Karen felt the color drain from her face and she nodded her head, swallowing thickly. Her ears were ringing in that way they got when she had a migraine, like everything was far away. She was only dimly aware of Brett calling one of the cops over to give her an escort home.

She didn’t have _anybody_. She couldn’t turn to Matt - fuck now, he’d judge her and shame her for caring about Frank Castle. Foggy… would too. But in that Foggy sort of way, where he’d pity her instead.

What she needed was to go to the paper. Ellison would give her a purpose. She could research more about Frank, fill that void. Clear his name, even if it ended up being posthumously.

“So, what’s that? The third time you’ve been in Frank Castle’s crosshairs and escaped?”

Karen looked up from her files as she shuffled through them. “Just lucky I guess.”

"Yeah, well, we both know that’s a load of shit, but you know, just in case I’m deposed one day,” Ellison crossed his arms across his chest. “We’ll say you’re the luckiest lady on the planet. Deal?” He seemed annoyed with her, which made her shuffle her papers even more. “Great. Great. How’s the, um… How’s the story coming?”

“There isn’t one.”

“How do you figure?”

“Because everyone is dead.” Karen retorted, pressing her palms against her desk. “Reyes. Blacksmith. Frank Castle. They’re all dead.”

“Mhm.”

“So anyone who was involved in the cover-up or screwed over by it, is gone. So there are no more stakes. There’s no reason to write it.” Karen felt defeated it. What was the point in bothering, now? Frank was _dead_.

“So what am I supposed to fill Sunday’s paper with?”

Karen laughed. “Crossword puzzles.” She suggested humorlessly.

“Look, look. Karen, Karen. I understand that this whole journalism thing is new to you, but a real journalist doesn’t just up and quit.”

“I’m grieving.” Karen hissed out, her teeth clenched tightly. “It’s not _fair_.”

“It’s exactly fair. Stories don’t disappear, they...they change. They become different stories.”

“Change? I’m exhausted. I needed to have gone home. I need a shower. I need to eat. I need to sleep.” Karen informed him, her voice just this side of completely breaking down.

“Why do you care so much about Frank Castle? Hmm?”

Karen froze. She stared down at her desk. She couldn’t tell him _why_.

“I  mean, maybe once upon a time this was whether or not he was innocent or some sort of, you know psycho murderer. But that ship sailed a long time ago. Along with your career at Nelson and Murdock. So…. So why do you still care?”

“Because,” Karen snapped, “He is _not_ a psycho murderer.” She scoffed. “He wasn’t a psycho murderer.”

“I don’t know how you… He killed thirty something people.”

Karen’s lashes fluttered as she stared at the papers on her desk, her chest rising and falling raggedly. “His family was gunned down in front of his face. Now, what he did was wrong… but no one, including your paper, ever mentioned the fact that he was a father and a husband, grieving-”

That seemed to get to Ellison.

“- looking for answers. And you, more than anyone, should understand why that matters to me.”

“So you’re… you’re saying there’s more to him.” Ellison suggested.

“Yes.”

“So is the story over?”

Karen gave an exasperated laugh at that, blinking her eyes to fight back tears. “Fine.” She sighed. “You’re right.”

“Yeah, I know. Get used to it.” Ellison moved to sit on the arm of the plush chair in her office. “I bet I’m right about what else I’m guessing happened.”

Karen grimaced, her arms curling around herself. “Yeah.” She ducked her head in shame. “You’re not wrong.”

“Leave that out of your profile on him. We don’t need anyone questioning your involvement with him.” Ellison rubbed his hands together.

“I need more sources. Like personal contacts, right?”

“Other than you.”

Karen rolled her eyes. “Yeah.”

“Tick-tock, tick-tock. Sunday’s coming.”

“Okay, okay, okay, um…” Karen clutched at her head. “I might be able to get someone. _Maybe_.”

“If you care about this story, you’ll make that maybe a definitely.” Ellison rose to his feet then, clapping his hands together. “Get going. Time’s a wasting.”

Karen bit her lip. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Not judging.”

“You’re not the first, nor the last journalist to get tangled up with the subject of their reporting.” Ellison made a face, “But this one does take the cake. One day, when we’re all old, it’ll be one to tell the interns.”

Karen laughed, tucking her mussed hair behind her ears. “I’m going to go. Who needs sleep.” Hopefully Schoonover would be willing to talk about Frank’s military days. She hadn’t gotten the chance to do that herself.

* * *

 -  **vii** -  
_no matter who you are_

* * *

Something felt off as she approached her car. Her keys were gripped tightly in her first, one key between every knuckle, ready to punch an attacker with them. Her eyes wandered everywhere around the parking garage, on high alert for something… someone.

Part of her wished for it to be Frank. The hairs standing at attention on the back of her neck said otherwise. But, then again - there was something about the way they were prickling that made her think of that first day. The stairwell.

She checked around her car, peering into the back seat, while keeping her eyes on the reflection in the glass behind her. She was alone. The parking garage was quiet. She unlocked her door and quickly locked it back, slipping inside and slamming the door shut.

Karen let out a sigh of relief. Safe. That’s what Brett had said, right? That she was safe.

She pushed the key into the ignition, turning it on. She hadn’t had her music on before. It was a familiar song.

 

 _“When you wish upon a star_  
_Your dreams will take you very far_  
_But when you wish upon a dream  
_ _Life ain't always what it seems”_

_Frank_. Karen froze in her seat, looking in the rear view mirror. He was standing there. Behind her car. A little worse for wear, but alive!

She left her car running as she clambered out of the vehicle, not even caring who could see her throwing herself at the Punisher, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face into the crook of his neck. He smelt like fire, gasoline, and sweat and it was all so sweet to her.

His arms snaked around her waist, crushing her to him.

“I thought I lost you.” Karen whispered, pulling back to meet his eyes.

“You almost did.” He remarked, leaning in to kiss her. Frank’s mouth slanted over hers, pushing her back against the trunk of her car.

Karen groaned against his lips, before she pulled back, stroking her fingers over his cheek. “We should go. I can't let anyone see you. They think you're dead. The police. Everyone.”

“I know.” He swallowed thickly, lifting his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “I gotta finish this Karen.”

Her heart sank. “Finish… _Oh_.” She understood, of course she understood, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t feel disappointed. He had a chance to disappear, to be dead to the world, but he had to finish what he started. He had to find the bastards that killed his family and everyone who covered it up.

“Where were you going?”  Frank questioned, his brows furrowed together as she moved away from him.

“Ellison wanted me to finish the story about you. It wasn’t an exposé anymore, but a profile… An attempt to posthumously make this damn city respect you for who you were.” Karen tucked her hair behind her ears. “I was going to go visit Schoonover, learn a little more about you.”

“ _No_.” Frank’s jaw set hard. “Stay away from Schoonover.”

“Why?”

Frank looked away, “I have my reasons. I'll take care of it.”

“... _Frank_.” Karen’s heart clenched. “Don't.”

“I have to, Karen.” Frank stared somewhere across the garage, his eyes haunted and pained. “I have to finish this.”

Karen reached out and touched his stubbly cheek. “I can't lose you, Frank. When I thought I had…” She shook her head. “You have to come back from this.”

Frank frowned, covering her hand with his own. “Don't know if that's an option, sweetheart. I'm too far gone.”

“No. No.” She shook her head, running her hand over his chest. “That's bullshit. You don't have to let this destroy you.”

“I don't got a choice. It already has.” His hand curled around her hip, his eyes meeting hers. “I'm fucked, Karen. And I… It wasn't right to pull you in. Selfish. It was selfish.” He blew out a breath.

“Sometimes you've gotta be selfish.” Karen frowned, closing her eyes as she tried to steady her breathing. “And… and hold onto what you don't wanna lose.” She tucked her bottom lip in between her teeth. “When I thought I lost you… at the docks. I thought the pain was never gonna stop.”

He shook his head, “People that can hurt you, the ones that can really hurt you, are the ones that are close enough to do it.” Frank told her calmly, his hand gripping her hip tighter. “People that get inside you, and tear you apart, and make you feel like you're never gonna recover.”

Karen nodded her head slowly, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. “You've got to come back, Frank. Let me be selfish. Let me have just this.” God, she knew she sounded crazy - begging a murderer to come back to her, but the thought of losing the one person that understood her wasn't fair. They wouldn't have normal, but they wouldn't be alone either. And what even was normal?

“I… I gotta go, Karen.” Frank whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead, letting them linger there. “I shouldn't’ve stayed. But I, I had to see you one more time.”

Karen blinked, tears burning in her eyes, “ _Frank.”_ She choked out, catching his arm when he started to pull away. Her fingers curled around the back of his neck and she dragged him in for a desperate kiss. A kiss fitting of a last encounter.

* * *

 - **ix**  -  
_shining bright to see_

* * *

 

She didn't see him again. Every night she waited up, hoping he would show up on her fire escape. She knew he wasn't dead, she knew he'd finished what had been started for him. But he made himself scarce. There were a few murders in the city that bared his mark, but everyone believed he was dead.

Life continued, as much as life could. The paper consumed her time, a welcome distraction from mourning a man that was never truly hers.

Matt tried to absolve himself, confessing who he was to her on a rainy, grey day, and she sent him away. How dare he have passed judgement on Frank, when he was no better, maybe worse because his stupid moral compass let too many fucked up people slip through the cracks.

Karen didn't know what he expected to get out of her. But now he knew, for certain, where her heart lay. Daredevil had been her hero for a moment, but the Punisher would be her hero forever.

“You're gonna want to see this,” Ellison said, carrying his laptop into Karen’s office, shutting the door behind him.

“Uh?” Karen blinked at him as she moved around her desk to look at the screen. “What is it?”

“I think your _friend_ is trying to contact you.”

“What? Why… would he contact me here? He knows where…” She shook her head, hands going to her hips. “Why do you think it's him?”

“I received an encrypted email yesterday,” Ellison explained. “Had IT decrypt it. It was a link to the online edition of your article. But at the bottom of the article someone had inserted coordinates. KP COME, followed by GPS coordinates for an area near the water.”

“And you think it's Frank? I mean, it could be… but I didn't really see him as a computer whiz. Encryption? Hacking into our website? That's not Frank.” She frowned, “He wouldn't go to this length to reach me. He knows where I am.”

Ellison gave her a skeptical look. “I want you to go. There. I'll take you there, keep close.”

“What?” Karen’s eyes widened at that. “This could be a trap. You want me to get killed?” She laughed nervously. “Fine. I'll go.”

“Might be one hell of a story.”

“Local reporter reunited with convicted mass murderer,” Karen gave Ellison a droll look. “That's front page material right there.”

He laughed, “Touché.”

Karen had to hand it to Ellison, he hadn't judged her whatsoever for her infatuation with Frank. He was the only one that knew they had been more than just… whatever. He was perceptive, part of being a journalist she guessed. He easily picked up on the fact that her infatuation wasn't one dimensional, that something had to have happened between them to make her so…

She had almost told Matt. When he revealed his identity to her, she'd almost blurted out that she and Frank had gone at it in the dimly lit bathroom of a diner. Just because she wanted to make him hurt. But she hadn’t, because what would it serve? She wasn't angling for the most vigilantes kissed patch or something.

Ellison dropped her off in the shadow of abandoned warehouses, close to a walkway along the water, where benches lined the sidewalk. He was sitting across the street, just out of view, just in case this went wrong.

Karen sat down one of the benches, staring out at the water, her arms crossed defensively across her chest. She was only alone for a few minutes, an eternity, before Frank joined her.

Ellison hadn't been wrong.

“Quite the dramatic way to get my attention.” Karen said, giving him a sideways look, trying to control her reaction. They were in public and he was dead.

“I didn't know if you wanted…”

“Of course I did.” Karen bit out. “Every damn day I waited.”

“I'm sorry.” Frank sighed, rubbing his hands together. “I fucked up.”

“Just a little.” Karen laughed humorlessly. “The beard is different.”

Frank rubbed at his beard, meeting her eyes then. “It's different. I've always been shaved. Didn't think anyone would recognise me like this.”

Karen smiled a little, reaching out to touch his cheek, playing her fingers through the hair there. “I like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Karen chewed on her bottom lip. “How could you think I didn't want to see you again?”

“I don't know.” He breathed out, leaning into her touch. “Thought it would be best for you.”

Karen laughed harshly, “It was torture. I knew you were alive but I didn't know how to find you again.” She looked around, watching their surroundings before she shifted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder as she curled her fingers around his hand. “Are you gonna vanish on me again?”

Frank hummed, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. “I don't know. I ain't good for you.”

“You don't get to decide that for me.” She whispered, “I get to decide what's good for me. And you… you're good for me. You get me.”

Karen turned her head and kissed him, enjoying the way his beard scratched a little, sparking her mind to wander down a dark and delicious path, one she quickly stopped.

Frank cupped her cheek as he sank into the kiss, his tongue teasing her lips apart, snaking inside to tangle with hers.

Karen pulled back, breathing in raggedly. “We shouldn't..”

“... no?”

“Not here. At least.” Karen assured him. “I mean… We’re in public.” She laughed softly, kissing him again. “And Ellison is probably watching.” She glanced behind her in the direction of his car.

“Worried?”

“I was skeptical about this. I thought it was a set up. Maybe Fisk…” She sighed. “He's getting out soon. And I won't pretend I'm not worried.” Karen rubbed her hands together. “I thought if it was you, you would've I don't know… come to my apartment or something.”

“I didn't want to…” Frank started, “I thought you would move on.” He said quietly. “Why would you hold on to… me?”

Karen shot him a look. “Because I'm selfish.” She pressed, “And I'm not even sorry.”

Frank chuckled, “Yeah. I tried to temper the selfish. Repress that shit.” He sighed, staring at the water. “I'm not a good man.”

“And you never pretended you were.” Karen squeezed his hand. “Never. You were always straightforward about that. But with you… with you I'm safe.” She insisted. “And I need safe. Peace of mind. All of that. I haven't slept since you left. I lay awake hoping you'll show up or dreading that someone else will to finish me off.”

“Fisk ain't gonna touch a hair on your head.” He gritted out, squeezing her hand. “I'm gonna keep you safe.”

“I know you will. Because you're a _good_ man, Frank. You're not a monster like you want people to think you are. You never lied.”

“I heard Matt told you.” Karen gave him a look, but he continued anyways. “I knew, but it wasn't my secret to tell. Hope you understand.”

“I do.” She swallowed thickly. “That's vigilante code or something right? Concealing identities.” She laughed a little. “Finding that out was fucked up. After his high and mighty speeches about you. About me sympathizing with you.”

Frank snorted. “Peace of shit means well. But… I think he, uh. Think he knows a little more than sympathizing happened between us.”

Karen blushed. “I got that impression too.” She tucked hair behind her ears. “I don't know why he couldn't tell me before. Why he had to wait for me to write a glowing report about you.” She scoffed. “He never really gave a damn, I don't think. Only when I was being some damsel.” She rolled her eyes.

“You ain't no damsel.”

“Damn straight.” She smirked. “Where does this leave us Frank? I mean… What is this?”

“Don't know. Does it need to be something?” He questioned with a little grunt. “I ain't gonna be with anyone else.”

“No? What? No female vigilantes out there to spark your interest?” She said teasingly, though jealousy spiked through her. “It doesn't have to have a label, Frank. I get that. I get _why_. I'm not looking to replace what you had before…”

“I was a different man back then. It ain't ever gonna be like that.” He said, before he quickly added. “I was different. I'll never be that man again. I didn't mean… it came out wrong.”

“It's okay.” Karen drew in a shaky breath. “I get what you meant. It doesn't bother me. You had a whole life and it got ripped away from you. This… it doesn't have to be about anymore than filling a need. Blowing off steam.”

“Yeah? Good.” Frank stared off at the water. “I can't give much more than that. Not anymore.”

Karen longed for more than that, but she understood that there was no rebuilding this broken man. He wouldn’t suddenly wake up one day, capable of filling that other need. There were no spare pieces to replace his broken parts. He was damaged goods and so was she and they just had to take what they could. It would be enough. “Yeah. Okay, so…” She rubbed her lips. “Do you want to… come over tonight? Or is there somewhere..”

“I live in a shit hole. You ain't coming there. Leave your window unlocked. I’ll come when I can tonight.”

“Okay.” She nodded and smiled at him, leaning in to kiss him before she stood up. “I'll… see you later.”

Frank rubbed his hands together, nodding his head a little as he looked away. “ _Good_.”

She tried not to look back at him as she made her way back to Ellison’s car and when she did, he was already gone as quickly as he'd appeared.

“So?”

“God, let me get in the car first.” Karen laughed as she climbed into his car, letting out a long held breath. “It was him.”

“And?” 

Karen shot him a look. “And we talked… he's got a beard. It's different. He's good. I think.” She shook her head. “I mean, it was good. Really good to see him. After all this worrying about him.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “He's, um… I'm gonna…”

“Those are details I don't need to know.” Ellison laughed. “You seem happier.”

“It's just… it's good to know he's okay. I worried about him.” She sighed, “Why don't you think I'm crazy? I mean any other person would think I'm out of my goddamn mind.”

“Because,” Ellison started. “You aren't. Sure, this whole whatever with him is a bit… insane. But it's not the most unethical shit I've seen. Second he treats you wrong, then, only then will I think you've gone crazy.”

“Thanks.” Karen smiled. “I really appreciate it.” 

* * *

 -  **x**  -   
_what you could truly be_

* * *

Karen waited anxiously for Frank to arrive. Seven slipped by. Eight. Nine. And ten teetered on the edge of making her think he had changed his mind. Maybe he had. It wouldn't be that shocking. He'd said it himself, this couldn't really ever be anything.

At a quarter till eleven she started for her bedroom, leaving her window unlocked - just in case. Just as she stepped through the threshold she heard it slide open and she looked back to see Frank standing there.

“You came!” She couldn't mask her excitement, even when she saw the black eye he was sporting and the busted lip with fresh blood. “Jesus Christ.”

“Had a pit stop before I made it here.” Frank remarked dryly, his lips quirking upwards. “Got any ice?”

“Yes!” Karen reached for his hand, leading him to her kitchen table. “What happened?”

“Caught an asshole doing nothing good.” He grumbled, grimacing when she placed the ice pack, wrapped in a towel to his swelling cheekbone. “Fuck.”

“Hold still.” Karen whispered, grabbing another towel to wipe away the blood from his lips. “You're not bleeding anywhere else, are you?”

He shook his head. “I'm good. Ain't that bad.”

Karen laughed, shaking her head. “You're lucky black eyes aren't turn offs for me.” She widened her eyes, wiping at his lip again as more blood came to the surface.

Frank chuckled. “No? Guess I'm lucky.” He rubbed his fingers over her arm, “Sorry I'm late.”

“We didn't really set a time.”

“It's late. You work tomorrow right?”

“Ellison will understand.” Karen sighed, shaking her head. “I'll just go in later.”

“ _Karen_ -”

“It's fine, Frank. I'm just glad you're here now. I thought… I don't know I guess I thought you wouldn't come. That you changed your mind.” She purses her lips. “I'm glad you didn't.”

“I thought you'd be asleep by the time I got here. Didn't know if I should wake you.”

“Always wake me up.” Karen smiled, leaning in to kiss him, despite his fucked up lip.

He sat the ice pack down on the table, scooting his chair out a little. “Sit.”

“On your lap?”

“Yeah.” Frank grinned, his fingers tapping against the table nervously.

Karen moved to climb into his lap, snaking her arm around his shoulders, leaning in to kiss him. “So what did the bad guy do?”

“Wasn't treating a lady right.” Frank said gruffly, bringing the ice pack back to his eye. “This other guy, he, uh, he blindsided me a bit. Took care of them both.”

Karen brushed her fingers over his bearded cheeks, still getting used to them. “Aren't you a hero.” She smiled, pleased with his story.

“Yeah.” He blew out a breath, sitting the ice pack back down. “She survives. Unscathed mostly.” Frank shrugged. “Can't be too obvious.”

“Punches aren't very Punisher-y.” Karen teased, tracing her fingers over his chest, over the sweatshirt that he wore. “I like the longer hair too.” She said, lifting her other hand to run her fingers through his hair.

“You like the new look?” He questioned, arching a curious brow. “I thought you’d be… indifferent.” He shrugged.

“I’m not really indifferent about anything where you’re concerned.” Karen admitted, chewing on her bottom lip. “I haven’t been since I met you.” She ducked her head.

“I get that. I’m far from indifferent about you, sweetheart.” He grinned a little. “You’ve written quite a few interesting articles lately.”

Karen went pink. “You read them?”

“Every damn day.” Frank patted her hip. “You’re good Karen. You’re doin’ the right thing these days. That paper’s where you belong. You’re more than a secretary to an ungrateful-”

Karen kissed him to silence him. She really, _really_ , didn’t want to talk about Matt. She just wanted to focus on Frank. On them. On whatever this wasn’t.

The kiss grew, tongues tangling, and his hands on her hips urging her to move around to straddle his hips. Her pajama pants were thin and she could feel the swell of his cock pressing up against the apex of her thighs, straining through the fabric of his jeans.

She rolled her hips, earning a needy groan from him as he ran his hand up under the cotton shirt she wore. He cupped her breast, gently palming it. She’d been dressed for bed and it had honestly been the best decision she’d ever made, because there was very little separating them, save for his bulky clothes.

Karen worked to get his sweatshirt off, breaking from their desperate kiss long enough to get it over his head, discarded somewhere on the floor.

“Fuck I need you.” Frank grunted out, peeling her shirt off as she continued rocking down against him.

“You’ll have me.” Karen whispered, her fingers playing through his hair, guiding his mouth to her breast. He greedily covered her nipple, swirling his tongue around the pebbled peak while his other hand worked over the other. “ _Fuck_.”

Frank pulled away from her breasts, his eyes dark with desire as he looked up at her. “Up, sweetheart.” He drawled out, his voice low as he urged her to shift her location to the edge of the kitchen table.

“What…?” Karen’s brows shot up as he kicked the chair back, dropping to his knees in front of her. “ _Oh_.” She breathed out, helping as he pulled her pajamas and underwear off of her. “Oh.” Her lashes fluttered as he parted her thighs, pressing his lips to her inner thigh.

There was something insanely intoxicating about the scratch of his beard against her skin, not to mention the sight of _him_ on his knees in front of her, his mouth so close to where she wanted it most. And when he lowered his mouth to slick flesh, she gripped at his hair tightly as she cried out, unabashedly.

She had never been particularly loud during sex acts, but… something about Frank made her _want_ to be vocal about how good he was at what he did. Maybe it was just to reassure him that he was doing an _incredible_ job, or maybe he brought something out of her she didn’t know she had.

His tongue parted her netherlips, swirling around her clit. “So fucking wet.” He all but growled out against her flesh. She tugged at his hair, encouraging him to keep at it, to keep working her ever closer to her release. It wouldn’t take long. She was wound up and the sight of her thighs framing his face, his bread glistening with her want… it had an effect on her.

“ _Frank_.” She panted, her head falling back, one hand gripping at the edge of the table. He groaned against her, the reverberation of the sound going straight through her. God, was he good.

Karen cried out, once more, as her release hit, all but knocking the wind out of her. She gasped as he pressed two fingers into her, right at the crest of her release, giving her inner muscles something to clench around. And the way he hooked them, just right, had her seeing stars as he found that sweet spot within her.

Frank grinned at her, his hair messed up from her fingers, his lips and his beard covered in the evidence of her arousal. “Fuck, you’re hot when you come.” He said lowly, licking his fingers clean. “So, fucking hot.”

“You know what’s even hotter?” Karen questioned breathlessly, sitting up a little straighter as she hooked her foot behind his leg. “When you’re fucking me.” Her lashes fluttered, looking up at him hopefully. “It’s been a long time since I had you in me.”

Karen reached out to palm his cock through his jeans, before _slowly_ dragging the zipper down. She could live with this. If this was all they ever had. If it was just physical, satisfying something emotional. She could _more_ than live with his, because it meant she had him, in some way. She had _Frank_.

Frank kicked his boots off, pushing his jeans down his hips and kicking them out of the way. He swore when her fingers curled around his cock, guiding him to her center. “Yeah, that’s right.” He breathed out, his cupping her cheek and dragging her in for a kiss as he slid into her slowly. Filling her completely.

The table shook beneath them as they found a pace that suited their need. His hips slamming into hers, “ _Fuck_!” Karen gasped out, gripping at his shoulder for support. Her inner walls were already trembling around him, her release hitting then, dragging her under.

Frank’s labored breathing was all she could focus on as he continued to thrust into her, right up until that second his own release hit and he pulled out of her, his release spilling over her lower stomach.

Karen laid back on the table, her legs falling away from his hips. She couldn’t help but laugh when she knocked the ice pack off the table, Frank’s face lighting up with amusement too. “On the fucking table. We’re heathens.”

She giggled. “At least you _ate_ at the table.” As soon as it came out of her mouth, she covered her face in embarrassment. “Oh my God. Did I actually just say that?”

Frank grinned. “Yeah you did.”

Karen groaned, moving to get off the table. She shot him a look when he wouldn’t stop laughing, slapping him in the chest playfully. “It’s not funny!”

“It’s fucking _hilarious_.” Frank retorted, taking a step back. “Endearing.”

Karen’s embarrassment lessened then. “Endearing?” She smiled at him as she scooted off the table. “ _Endearing._ I guess it wasn’t the worst thing I could’ve said.” It was, but if he thought it was endearing… she’d take it. “Are you going to… Stay?”

“Stay?”

“The night…” Karen trailed off. “I’d like that, you know. I mean, I understand if you don’t want too…” She sighed. “It might be too much.” She ducked her head, tucking her hair behind her ears, “I’ll be right back. I should clean up a little.”

“Sorry about the mess.” Frank remarked quietly and she could feel his gaze on her as she left the room.

“It’s okay.” She smiled in the doorway, “You better be there when I get back.”

She tied her hair up on top of her head, grabbing a washcloth to clean up, watching her reflection in the mirror. This was her life now. Frank lingering somewhere in her apartment, like he wasn’t quite sure if he was allowed to sit down on her furniture. With desperate, needy fucks on the most available surface. And somehow, all of that… it seemed _right_. It was better than sweet kisses and lies. They both knew exactly what the other had to bring to the table and it didn’t make either of them run.

There’d never be much more than _this_ and that… was okay. Frank was a shining light in the darkest parts of her and she liked to think she was doing the same for him. A big ole shining ball of light, guiding them through.


End file.
